


Not Written on the Stars

by dreamerbee



Series: Bit Like Shakespeare [7]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/pseuds/dreamerbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astrology says Aries and Taurus aren't meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the final chapter of this ficverse.  
> The epilogue was written because I wasn't sure if I should end this here and let the story pick up with the canon or if I should just write a happy ending to cheer myself up.  
> You can consider the epilogue as an alternate ending of some sort.

**London, June 2000**

David sat restlessly in their living room, glancing at the clock and wondering if Catherine would take too long to come back home. He shoved his hand down his coat’s pocket and fidgeted with its contents, feeling butterflies swirling in his stomach.

He knew he shouldn’t be feeling so nervous, but he couldn’t help it. He tried to remain positive and confident, telling himself everything would be fine, but it wasn’t working. He hadn’t really planned ahead when he decided to do it and a thousand nervous thoughts which hadn’t run through his head before were running through it now; he wasn’t sure if he was excited or scared senseless by the prospect of Catherine arriving.

When he finally heard the doorknob turning, he practically jumped out of his skin.

Catherine entered the flat, all flushed cheeks and smiles and proudly holding two plastic bags full of take-out containers.

“Hey.” She went to put the bags on the table before walking to the couch; grinning, she leaned to kiss him. He felt his heart flutter as he kissed her back and nervously returned her smile once they separated, running his hands up and down her arms.

“Hello.” He gave her a nervous grin and turned to peek at the bags, mostly trying to focus on a thing other than the ginger woman standing in front of him “What’s that? Have you brought dinner?”

“Yes, yes! Just don’t grow used to it. Today’s a special day; after all, we have something to celebrate.” He choked as he heard her words, feeling a sudden chill run down his spine.

“W-what- Celebrate?”

“Yes! Look at you; it’s good to know you’re not going deaf yet.”

“But- but... How did you know we had to celebrate?”

She blinked, still smiling at him.

“‘How did I know’? I’m the one who should be asking you that, you silly. I have great news.”

He furrowed his brow, blinking back at her.

“I’m sorry, are we talking about the same thing?”

“I don’t know, are we?” She swatted his arm playfully “What are you talking about?”

“I-I, I... What are _you_ talking about?”

“Well, Mr. David Tennant, guess what? Guess who’s going to be in a play produced by the Royal Shakespeare Company?”

His frown deepened.

“I am, but... But we’ve known this for months, why are we talking about this...?”

She laughed at that, throwing herself beside him on the couch.

“Honestly, what’s wrong with you today? I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me!” He merely stared blankly at her and she sighed. “You really don’t remember the audition for the RSC play? I told you I was going to do it. I passed!”

“Oh. Oh! Oooh, that’s right, the audition! You passed the audition! Oh Catherine, congratulations!”

He threw his arms around her, smiling as she giggled and he dusted kisses all over her face, all his nervousness momentarily forgotten.

“And I haven’t even told you the best part yet!”

“There’s a better part? Do tell!”

“We’ll be going on a world tour!”

The fact his smile remained intact was probably a tribute to how good an actor David was.

“Really.”

“Yes!”

“A world tour.”

“Yes!”

“How much time will you spend on it?”

“There’ll be a UK tour starting in September; the world tour doesn’t begin until February, but then I guess we’ll be gone until June.”

“That’s... That’s a long time.”

“I know, it really is, isn’t it? It’ll be hard to stay away for so many months, I suppose...” She sighed and her smile diminished for a few seconds before coming back in full force “But I’m still really excited about it, you know? David, we’re going to Hong Kong! We’re going to Australia, to the US! Can you believe it? Isn’t this an incredible opportunity?”

Her happiness was so genuine he actually felt bad for not feeling happy for her.

Oh, Lord. He was officially a lousy boyfriend, wasn’t he? And yet he couldn’t help but wonder if this world tour couldn’t have come in a more inappropriate moment. Talk about bad timing.

“You... You’ll still come and watch me perform, though. Won’t you?”

“Well, I... I’m not sure, David, I’ll probably be caught up in rehearsals and everything. I’ll still try to be there for the opening night, though. Even if I have to catch the first bus to come back in time, ok?”

And he had been looking forwards for a couple of days with her in Stratford-upon-Avon. Bummer.

It’d be better if he changed the subject; he wouldn’t be able to pretend those news didn’t bother him for much longer.

“So! What have you brought for our celebration? I’m starving.”

“We’ll get to it, mister. But before we eat, what were _your_ reasons for celebrating? Now I’m curious.”

“My reasons...?”

“Yeah. Like, when I said we had something to celebrate, you were all ‘how did you know?’ so I’m guessing you have something to tell me. C’mon now, spill.”

He swallowed nervously, carefully controlling himself so he wouldn’t once again automatically reach for his pocket.

“It’s... It’s nothing, really. Nothing important. We can talk about it some other time. Can we just... Eat dinner now?”

She rolled her eyes and went to the cupboard, sighing dramatically.

“All right. Fine. You want to play mysterious man, be my guest. We’ll talk about it later. Now help me set the table and we can have some Italian food, how about it?”

Getting up, he managed a smile and went about arranging plates and cutlery while she opened the foam containers and the smell of spaghetti and pesto sauce filled their flat.

He would do it. He didn’t even know why he was so set upon doing it, but he wanted to and knew he would. It was just... This was not the way things were supposed to happen when he planned them. Her mind was now filled with thoughts of her play and he couldn’t bring himself to spoil that special moment bringing up a subject he wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to discuss. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be feeling like this; everything would be fine, they _had_ been together for almost ten years. There was nothing to fell nervous about. After all, they were as good as...

But he knew her and that was probably the reason why the impending feeling of dread wouldn’t leave him, no matter how hard he tried.

 

He sat on their bed, clad in his pyjamas and staring down at the case he had packed for his time in Stratford. He would leave in the morning and wouldn’t be back for three whole months. Of course, when he was back there was always the possibility she would already be on tour, performing God-knew-where. He had never been too fond of tours but right at that moment his sympathy for them was even lower than usual; pesky, inconvenient tours _had_ to get in the way of his life plans.

He turned to watch the sleeping form beside him; Catherine slept on peacefully, her breath slow and even, her bright ginger hair spread on her pillow. That would probably be the last time he’d see her in person, sleep by her side, smell her perfume, in a long, long time.

Three months without her. And then a few more months – endless months - with her travelling around the world by herself and leaving him all alone.

Before he realized what exactly he was doing, he had already placed a hand on her shoulder and started shaking her gently. He was probably being hast about the whole thing, but that was David for you;  carefully analyzing the prospects wasn’t really what he did, so of course he would end up acting before thinking.

He had better go ahead and do it before he changed his mind.

“Catherine.”

“Hmm.”

“Catherine, love, wake up. Catherine.”

“...David? What is it? Is something the matter?”

“No, no- not really, I just... I wanted to talk to you.”

“You wanted to talk to me. It’s 3 AM and you want to talk to me. This better be important.”

“It is, actually... Catherine, remember last month when you came home telling me you had passed the audition and I said we had something else to celebrate?”

“Yeah, and then you refused to talk about it for a whole month, so why are you bringing this up now?”

“Well, I...” He sighed deeply and averted his eyes “I’m travelling tomorrow and when I come back you’ll be the one who won’t be here, so I guess this is pretty much the last chance I’ll have to say this in a very long while...”

He turned on the lamp, opened a drawer on his bedside table and fished the small black velvet box. Drawing a deep breath, he turned to her; Catherine, still half-asleep, blinked in astonishment.

“Catherine, there’s no way to say this without making a huge fool of myself, so I’ll just ask—Will you marry me?”

Her jaw dropped slightly and she rubbed her eyes, sitting in the bed.

“...Is this some kind of strange dream I’ll laugh at with you once I’m awake?”

“Well. No.”

“Oh, right. Right. I was just checking.” She stifled a yawn and turned to him, her expression concerned and her eyes heavy with sleep. “David...?”

“Yes, Catherine?”

“Have you really thought this through?”

“Or course I did!” Of course he didn’t. She blinked, still looking slightly sleepy and eyeing him with a hint of disbelief.

“Ok, just checking this too.” She covered her eyes with her hands, giving a deep sigh “Oh, David—How can I even say this...?”

“Just say ‘yes’ and we’re set, I’m not picky.” He smiled, trying to keep his tone light and playful. He wouldn’t feel nervous about it, he wouldn’t feel nervous about it, there was no reason to feel nervous about it...

“David...”

“What, you’re obviously going to say ‘yes’, right? I mean, look at us, we’re as good as...”

“Yes! Exactly, and that’s the very reason why I don’t want to say ‘yes’.”

He furrowed his brow, staring at her in confusion.

“I’m sorry Catherine, but I don’t get it.”

“Ok, let me try explaining it to you.” She straightened herself, sitting stiffly on the bed, and turned to him, her expression blank and collected “Look, we’ve been together for, what?, ten years already. We have a home together. We know each other, like, _really_ know each other, every little quirk, every little irritating habit and every little flaw. So we’re already married by my standards. I think planning a big party just to ‘make it official’ to other people would be daft if we already know what we are, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I guess I understand it, but I don’t quite agree with it.”

“David...”

“What’s wrong with wanting to do things properly? With wanting to throw a party to show how much we love each other? With being able to go around and _say_ you are my wife? You’re not my wife, Catherine, you’re my girlfriend!”

“So you want to get stressed over a party for countless months and spend a load of money in a single night just because you want to be able to tell people I’m your wife!?”

“No, I want to get stressed and spend money on that party _because I love you!_ And that’s why I want you to be my wife!”

Catherine averted her gaze and a heavy silence fell upon them.

After what seemed like ages, she finally spoke.

“You know I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking down the aisle all dressed in white, David. With everyone staring... That’s just... Not me.”

“So this is not about already knowing what we are and saving money. You just don’t want to walk down the aisle with people staring at you. Right.”

“Oh, please, David, don’t...  I truly meant it, you know I meant it-”

“What I know is that since the beginning I’m the one who seems to be more invested in this relationship, Catherine, and I’m tired. I’ve gave up on loads of things to be with you or to make you happy. And when I ask you to _marry_ me – something that wouldn’t even change our lives that much, considering the way we live now – you say ‘no’ just because you’re self-conscious. Do you even want to be with me? If you don’t, you just have to say it.”

“You’re being unfair now.”

He knew he was hurting her. And he knew he was being irrational and childish as well and yet hurting her was precisely what he wanted at the moment. It probably wasn’t the best way to deal with the issue, but he was feeling nervous, disappointed and frustrated and he couldn’t give a damn.

“Am I really? Things always seem to work the way you want them to, Catherine. I just wish you would be the magnanimous one once in our lives. Can’t you do that? Can’t things work the way _I_ want them to, just this once?”

“David, no... Please, stop...”

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” He sneered, throwing the velvet box inside the drawer and slamming it shut “Well, I’m sorry, but perhaps it’s time for you to face the fact you’re being selfish, Catherine. That you’re always the one being selfish.”

He turned to her once again and realized she was crying, tears streaming silently down her face; she cried without making a sound apart from the occasional sniffle. A tiny part of him felt some kind of morbid satisfaction as he realized he still had the power to make her cry if he really wanted to, but it was a truly small part; most of him was torn between standing his ground or simply throwing his arms around her and begging her to forgive him.

At the end, begging for forgiveness almost won, pride be damned; he reached out for her, but as he tried to dry her tears, she pushed his hand away.

“Catherine...”

“No, David. No, just... Just leave me.”

Well, it was all fine. If she didn’t want him, he wouldn’t drag himself at her feet.

He fetched his pillow and went to the couch.

 

He entered the room in the morning after spending the worst night he had in years. He had barely slept; he had tossed and turned on the small, not soft enough couch, he cried like a fool, he had gotten a headache when he, scolding himself, tried to stop crying like a fool and instead ended shedding a few bitter, angry tears until he was too tired to remain awake.

She was already up, sitting on the bed, when he got there. He wondered if she even slept at all. He changed his clothes and fetched his bag without looking at her; when he did, she showed no signs of having looked at him either.

“Catherine, I’m leaving.”

She nodded meekly, still looking away from him.

“I suppose... This is goodbye. I hope you make a safe tour.”

She remained silent.

“So that’s it?” He snapped, slightly miffed “Aren’t you going to say something?”

“I guess they’re right” She whispered, barely audible “We’re not really compatible.”

“Wha--?”

“Aries and Taurus, they’re not...”

“God help me, Catherine, if you start rambling about Astrology now, I swear I’ll walk through that door and I’ll never come back.”

“But you will anyway, won’t you?”

He merely blinked.

“Oh, silly me.” She sighed “It’s your flat. I’m the one who should leave. I’ll remember that. Good bye, David. Have a nice trip.”

She rolled on the bed, hiding herself under the duvet so he wouldn’t be able to see her cry.

 

**London, November 2000**

It had been months since he last heard of her.

He came back after his tour finished, not quite knowing what to expect. Sometimes he expected to find a letter written by Catherine, heart-felt and full of sincere apologies, once he came in; sometimes he expected her to have left the apartment entirely, like she had never been there, and somehow he dreaded both possibilities.

In the end, it was neither but at the same time it was both. Trust Catherine to make such an exit.

She wasn’t there, that was a given; she would be on tour after all. Neither were her clothes, toiletries, books or personal belongings. Yet she left the small pieces of furniture she had bought along the years and it pained him to look at them. He didn’t quite know what to make of it.

And on top of the table, there was a letter.

_“‘Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?’_

_I’m sorry._

_Good bye._

_Catherine.”_

 

When he laid down on his bed, he found out her smell on the sheets was faint, washed away by the months the house remained empty.

He cried himself to sleep and didn’t mind if he looked like a fool; there was no one there to mock him, after all.

 

_end._


	2. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

He slept with his clothes on and only entered the bathroom the next day, grimacing as he realized he still hadn’t showered after a more than 3 hours long trip. He didn’t _really_ want to get up just yet, but he didn’t want to wallow in self-pity, either.

He washed his face and was staring at the mirror, wondering if shaving was worth the effort, when he noticed something.

The bin was full.

He blinked. Catherine had tidied up the whole flat before leaving; in any other way, it looked like it had never even been lived in. So why hadn’t she emptied the bin?

He realized it was full of crumpled notebook pages, strikingly similar to the note he found on the table.

He picked up one of them and smoothed the paper.

 

_“How can I hate you so much if I love you so much? God, David.”_

He blinked again, his jaw dropping, and opened another one.

_“This is my entire fault, and I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. Please forgive me.”_

_“Can I say I’ll love you forever or will it sound cheesy?”_

_“I truly hope you can find someone who will give you want you want--”_

_“You deserve all the happiness in the world, David. And I want you to be very, very happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to make you happy. I’ll care about you forever”_

_“I know you’ll replace me in no time, dashing man as yourself, but I’ll still miss you”_

_“‘Hasty marriage seldom proveth well’_

_God, Catherine, what are you even writing”_

_“‘Who woo’d in haste and means to wed at leisure’_

_You’ve known each other for ten years, Catherine, now you’re sounding stupid”_

_“‘This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.’_

_Sod this, I’m fetching my copy of ‘As You Like It’”_

_“‘_ _Men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.’_

_Now I’m just being mean and rubbing salt on your wounds. I don’t want that. Sorry.”_

_“This would be easier if I didn’t love you so much, you bastard.”_

 

He didn’t know if he should cry or laugh; he could see her in every message.

He ran out of the bathroom and leaped to his phone.

“Hallo, Josephine? It’s David... I’m sorry to bother you, but can you tell me when Catherine will come back from her tour exactly?”

 

**London, June 2001**

She looked through the crow on the airport, quickly spotting her mother and running to her. She hugged Josephine and smiled, a bright grin that never really reached her eyes.

“I’m back!”

“Welcome back, Catherine. Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about the tour! You’ve been performing in America, that’s so posh!”

She rolled her eyes, in exasperated fondness, as her mother kept talking about the glamour of a world tour; she looked around, searching for one of those luggage carts, when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Need help with the luggage?”

She blinked. Great. Now jet-lag was making her hallucinate.

And yet it was real. Josephine stood, silent and discreetly watching, as Catherine stared at him in the way someone stares at a ghost while he sheepishly tucked his hands on his pockets.

“David...?”

“Catherine, look” He ran a hand through his short hair, making it even more unruly than it used to be “I just... Want to say I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I was a really lousy boyfriend and I don’t know how you’ve put up with me for such a long time. I, I’ve been feeling like shit without you – sorry, Josephine... I’m just never as good as I am when I’m with you. You bring out the best of me and... Even though Aries and Taurus don’t normally work, we _can make_ this work. I’m willing to try. I’m...”

“...Can I please tell everyone you just said Aries and Taurus don’t work?”

“You’ll never, ever tell this to any living soul, ok?”

She laughed and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I bet you haven’t missed me as much as I missed you.”

“Oh, it’s a competition now?”

“Obviously.”

“David?” She whispered, so softly he almost couldn’t hear her.

“Hm, Catherine?”

“Yes.”


End file.
